That Sanchez kid is no good
by WinchestAccounts
Summary: Stan is a troubled kid with a harsh father who showers his more successful twin in love and praise while chopping Stan up to useless garbage. Stan finds comfort in a friend of his Rick Sanchez but this comes with heavy risk. Rick is a bad kid known for his reputation as a criminal and a general bad boy. He offers Stan relief in the form of drugs and Stan foolishly agrees.
1. Chapter 1

((A/N: Okay this idea came to me suddenly and I just HAD to write it.  
Tw: drug use, angst, so much angst…Character death maybe I he vent 's not very well edited so please excuse any mistakes in spelling or auto corrections that are in here))

Stan stormed out of his small upper floor home and out of the palm reading shop his mother owned in the lower floor. Ford rushed out after him begging him not to go, that their father was wrong and just being mean. That he was being ornery about the long day he had at work, but Stan wasn't buying a word of it. Ford felt hot tears in his eyes as he watched his twin brother storm off to his old beat up Chevy. He saw the keys were gone meaning his father had taken them as part of his "punishment."  
Stan let out a loud snarl and slammed his fist to the side of the old Chevy. He stomped back up to the house but instead of going back inside like he should have and tried to reason calmly with his father or even let Ford comfort him by the water, he grabbed his red coat with the fluffy hood and trudged down the sidewalk to the only place he knew of that he could run too where no one would judge him. Rick Sanchez's house.

Stan knew the boy was a loose cannon and a terrible influence but he felt Rick was the only one who could understand -besides Ford- about how unbearable his father was. Rick had no father but he could always pretend to understand what Stan was going through and Stan gave him credit for that.  
"Stan!" Ford cried, "Where are you going it's nearly midnight!"  
Stan stopped halfway down the block and turned back to his brother standing at their front door, "Leave me alone sixer I'm going to Rick's!"

"Stan you know that Sanchez boy is no good!" Ford exclaims and rushes up to Stan to grab his coat sleeve firmly between his six fingers. His eyes were pleading behind his thick glasses. Stan saw the pain and desperation in his brothers eyes but he tore his arm away and continues his journey to Rick's house, leaving his brother standing in the cold.

Rick lived only a few blocks across town and Stan found the trek easy enough save for the howling cold winds burning his face. He sighed and watched a puff of white escape past his lips. He kept walking until an old collapsing building came into his view. Rick's home was in shambles because his mother worked 3 jobs and was never really home and Rick was too lazy to clean anything. Stan often found himself cleaning Rick's home when he passed out after smoking pot in his living room and watching tv. He didnt mind Rick smoking pot. Rick was always reckless and downright irresponsible. He was and little punk who shared Satan's own views on himself; he was just as useless. Stan sighed heavily trying to quiet those thoughts and his father's words that were screaming inside his head.

Stanley approached the old molded door that sealed the horrors of Rick's home from the rest of the world and he gave a heavy knock. A few moments of shuffling his feet in the snow on the stoop in an attempt to make a picture and Rick was there with the door swung open. He squinted at the streetlight outside and hisses softly as it burned his reddened eyes. Stan couldn't tell if it was from pot or just the fact he had woken Rick up.  
"What is it man? Don't you know what time it is?" Where the first words out of his mouth, a reasonable greeting compared to his usual ones.

"Trying to get away from my old man. He's pissed at me again.." Stan muttered and watched Rick's face slack and a softness filled his hazy eyes. He stepped aside in a silent gesture for Stan to come inside.  
Stan entered Rick's home to see it in somewhat netter condition than usual. No old food bowls, no open cans or dirty clothes lying around. It was oddly clean and even smelled like soft flowers. Odd. "Woah! What kind of magic is this!? Your house is actually clean!" Stan chided and gave a laugh. Rick rolled his eyes and grinned, "yeah yeah, my mom came home this morning early and I helped her clean up cause she didn't like her house looking like a tornado had torn through.." Rick said and made air quotes around the last but meaning it was the exact words his mother had said to him. Stan smiled softly at Rick's bitterness but he saw deep down he appreciated his mother's parental scoldings. It gave him a sense of worth to have someone chide him on menial tasks as if he were a normal boy. Rick allowed Stan to come in and he sat down on the couch. Stan watched Rick walk into the kitchen area. He came back with two beers and grinned almost devilishly and handed one to Stan. Taking the beer with a soft nod Stan opened it and took a sip of the bitter liquid. It filled his chest with a calming warmth and he smiled as it soothed some of the sting that still lingered from earlier.

"Your old man being an ass again?" Rick's voice suddenly broke through the silence that had accumulated between them.

"Yeah," Stan sighed, "He keeps saying I'll never live up to anything if I don't fix myself. That I should live my life like Ford. 'Why can't you be like your brother!?' He's such an ass."

Stan frowned into the rim of his bottle. He heard his father's words in his ears like soft whispers from hell. He hated his father. He hated how his father loved Ford, but he couldn't seem to find himself hating Ford. He couldn't, even if he had all the reasons in the world to and honestly he kinda did sometimes. He loved his brother more than anything. Some would argue it was unhealthy how close they were but Stan always chopped it up to the fact they were twins and twins always share a stronger bond than normal siblings. He always tried to discourage his love for Ford showing but Ford was a smart kid. His and Stan's emotions were synced. They always knew what the other was thinking or feeling. They knew everything that happened to one another because they were never apart. Even in times that they were apart they always told the other what they were doing. They were closer than close and they both knew nothing could separate them. That was one reason Stan didn't just run away lick Rick had suggested he do so many times. He couldn't leave his brother, even if it meant dealing with his overbearing father, he'd do it, all for Ford.

"E-Earth to buggh- S-stan!" Rick calls in Stan's general direction and waved a pale hand in front of his dark brown eyes.

"H-huh..?" Stan asked and looked to Rick.

"You were t-t-totally in la la land over there pal~" Rick teased and gave a soft chuckle.

"Oh…Sorry I was just thinking…"

"You need to stop that shit man…" Rick was given a confused look from Stan and he continued, "You need to stop thinking so much and just let go man!"

Stan huffed bitterly, "Yeah _right_ …I'll never be able to do that…"

"Yeah you can, if you focus hard enough.." Rick replied with a loud burp at the end.

"Isn't that defeating the purpose not to think? Why would I want to focus if I'm supposed to relax and forget?" Stan replied with a smile.

"You see it's shit like that that can get you killed out here Stan!" Rick exclaimed and rolled his already empty beer bottle for emphasis.

"No it'll get me out of sticky situations! I'm a good bullshitter don't you know?" Stan teased earning an eye roll from Rick

"But seriously…Stan you gotta stop thinking so much about your dad. The old bastard ain't gonna change, m-might as well accept it and just leave him to have his perfect little family with your brother and run away. You can run with me! We're almost free don't you know? WE could leave anytime we want! We could get away from a-all these fucking people and just rough it out on our own!" Rick has a soft glint of longing in his eyes as he blabbered on about his preferred life where he didn't have to deal with his problems and could just live like he wanted. Stan knew it was too good of an idea to ever work. It would get them killed.

"That's not smart Rick.." He says softly and as his father must have witnessed, he watched the glint of joy evaporate from Rick's soft blue eyes.

"Buzz-kill….you sounded just like Ford there a second~" Rick gave a soft laugh.

"R-Really?" Stan asked almost immediately. He didn't know why but saying he sounded like someone as perfect and intelligent as Ford made his hear soar. Rick was no idiot himself, Stan would even argue he was almost as smart as Ford but he hid it under a cloud of mind numbing drugs and alcohol.

"Yeah.." He said and smiled warmly. His eyes suddenly darted away and an obvious moment of deep thought was upon the smaller man.

"What's up?" Stan asked, cursed his good sense of others' emotions.

"Well. I mean you complain so much about not being able to let go so…I wanna try something." Rick said and looked up into Stan's eyes with a sense of shyness.

Stan couldn't help the heat rising in his cheeks not understanding what it was Rick was hinting at. Could he possibly mean something romantic or even sexual? Stan wasn't really the one to get nasty with someone like Rick. He never really got sexual with _anyone_. No one really stuck around in his life long enough for them to get to that point.

"What are you implying Rick..?" He asked in a shaky rasp of a breath.

Rick didn't reply. He simply stood and walked over to one of the large china cupboards across the living room that held ancient porcelain that looked like it hadn't been touche din years. Rick fished around a few delicate eatery items before drawing out a black drawstring bag. He turned around and smiled at Stan mischievously before he ushered him to follow him upstairs to his train wreck of a bedroom. Stan obliged and followed Rick to his room. With eat step up the staircase his heart raced faster and faster. What did Rick have in store for him? He didn't know. Rick was unpredictable and always had some new trick up his sleeve.

Once at the boys bedroom Stan entered with Rick and shut the door behind himself. Rick walked paste a pile of trash and dirty clothes to plop down onto his dingy mattress with no covers, just one blanket and a sole flattened out pillow. Stan felt a tinge of sorrow nag at his heart for Rick's poor living conditions. After this night Stan vowed to invite Rick over more often.

Stan ran a hand through his longer brown hair and sat beside Rick. His hair was really growing out. Almost down to his shoulders now. Ever since he graduated high school a few months ago he wanted to grow it out and grow it did.

Rick looked to him and slowly opened the bag. Stan watched with a sense of anxiety as to what Rick you possibly pull out of the bag. What Rick did pull out shocked Stan to silence. A needle. Rick pulled out a small needle filled with a clear liquid. It was so odd to see one of those outside a hospital and Stan sat silently as he watched Rick also pull out a small elastic band. He looked up to Stan and waited a moment for Stan to just take his next breath because he seemed to be holding it in.

Stan shook out of his shock and looked to Rick in confusion, "What is that…?" He asked. He knew what it was. He knew it was stupid to ask Rick of all people why he had a needle filled with mystery liquid in his home. He knew it was some sort of drug. Stan would be lying if he said he'd never smoked pot with Rick before or drank himself into a slurring and stumbling mess but this…this was new and uncharted territory for him.

"Here..don't be a pus. I heard this stuff is real good for anxiety and all that good stuff!" Rick said and reached up removing Stan's jacket with his pale bony fingers.

Stan let Rick strip him of his jacket and he offered to remove his own shirt. He watched Rick with cautious eyes as he strapped the band of elastic around his arm. It was so weird. He couldn't believe he was letting Rick to do this. He tried to reason with himself that this was bad, that this couldn't end good for him. He wanted to get up and walk away so much but the pain in his chest was too much to just handle with a little beer and a back alley fist fight with a local kid. So he let Rick continue.

He watched as rick pooped the lid off the syringe once he had the band tied around Stan's upper arm. Stan felt his heart race a million miles an hour inside his chest. He heart the blood coursing through his veins. His ears echoed with the faint thumping of his heart as he watched Rick squirt out some of the liquid inside to clear the air bubbles. Sooner than Stan expected, he felt a stinging in his arm and watched as the needle went right into a plump blue vein. His air stopped and he watched with a he;d breath as rick injected some of the liquid into him then remove it and repeat the same action on himself. Once the liquid was gone, Rick placed the needle back into the back and pulled Stan down to flop onto his back on the bed. Stan allowed himself to lye back when the drugs began kicking in and his head swam in a sea of bliss and awkward spinning.

Stan smiled faintly as the memories of his father's words fade from his mind. His brothers image faded into nothing but a whisper of a memory and even his mother's beautiful face evaporated from his thoughts. Stan yawned after a few minutes of just feeling the drug work on his system before he felt a sudden drowsiness fill his body. It lurked up from his feet then to his stomach where if curled and rested before finally making its way to Stan's brain. He couldn't fight it and it took over him. With a final though of Ford's sweet smile on his mind he faded into a dark abyss that was sleep.

Rick awoke the next morning sore and drowsy. He groaned as his head throbbed inside his skull. He wanted to crawl into a dark hole and just sleep forever but he knew he had to get up and get Stan home before Ford worried too much and his folks called the cops.

Rick groaned as he sat up and stretched his back with a satisfying pop to his spine. He looked over to a sound asleep Stanley and sighed. Reaching over he shook Stan lightly. Stan didn't budge.

"Stan, get the fuck up! We have to get you home!" Rick groaned.

He watched Stan remain still and quiet. For a moment he felt his heart race and panic filled every fiber of his being. He swallowed down a hot ball of pure fear and tried shaking Stan more but to no use, Stan was lifeless as ever. He leaned down to listen to Stan's heart and he heart no sign of any life but the dwindling thump of Stan's heart. He backpedaled off the bed and into the floor with pure fear and terror in his teary eyes.

"Oh god.." Rick whispered in barely an audible sound.


	2. Chapter 2

(A/N: I'm baaack! Okay so as the first one, content warning for drug use and language! Also this is where the stancest comes into play!))

* * *

Rick ran out of his room and down the rickety staircase. He bolted into the kitchen and frowned. HE didn't have a house phone so dialing 911 wasn't an option. He needed to get Stan out of the house fast before he kicked it on his bed. Rick felt the cold brush of fer bubble up inside his gut as the idea of Stan dying because of him passed through his thoughts. He tried to will that thought away as he darted back up the stairs and into his room. He examined Stan's lifeless form and suddenly with a strength he didn't even know he had, he hoisted him over his shoulders with himself tucked under Stan's arm. He dragged him down the stairs hearing the unconscious boy's boots scraping against each step. He ran out into the early morning cold in nothing but a pair of loose jeans and a tank-top.

"S-Stay with me Stan!" He said softly as Stan gave a soft noise when he was placed in the passenger seat of Rick's old truck.

Rick hopped into the driver's seat and cranked up the engine. His face burned hot with sudden emotions bubbling over inside of him. Tearing out of his driveway, Rick sped towards the hospital only a few miles into town. Hot tears poured from his eyes as sobs racked from his chest like a song of sorrow. He watched Stan's lifeless form topple and slump in every which direction as he took speedy and quick turns. Horns blared at him as he sped through an intersection but he could barely hear them for his own cries and his heart hammering inside his chest.

Once to the emergency room entrance, Rick pulled Stan from his heat and cried out for a doctor for his arms were too weak from crying to lug Stan inside. A nurse came out almost immediately and hoisted Stan into a wheel chair.

"What happened to him!?" She asked with a sudden urgency in her voice and eyes.

"H-he must have had a reaction to the drugs! He..." Rick frowned and looked away trying to get them both out of the current law troubles they could see in their future, "He was jumped in the street! The guy w-was all over him! He stabbed him in the arm with a needle to like knock Stan out and he stole Stan's money! He even must have gotten a good punch on him!" Rick cried as he rushed beside the nurse who was wheeling Stan down a corridor. Stan was suddenly lifted from his chair and onto a white bed and doctors wheeled him back into a restricted area.

Rick bit his lip. The story was far-fetched and not believable but he didn't care. He just wanted Stan to be okay and not have feds on himself. He couldn't have another run in with the law, not now that he was finally out on probation.

Rick felt the tears burn his eyes as he tumbled towards a set of chairs against a white wall. He sobbed as he knelt ans sat down on the seat. His fists balled up against is eyes while he tried to beat and scratch away the tears. He couldn't believe he had done this to Stan. Stan didn't deserve this, his family didn't deserve this. Ford suddenly crossed Rick's mind. He pictured Ford's pain filled eyes looking up at him with hate and disgust as he screamed, "YOU KILLED HIM! YOU KILLED MY BROTHER!"

He could see Ford in his own position, sitting in a chair a complete mess. Hair messy and face red from the force of his own sobs. His glasses discarded atop the seat next to him from him throwing them in frustration. It wasn't a good thought. He had to escape. He found it more appealing for the thought he could finally have the life he always wanted. A life where no one judged, a town where no one knew him.

As he thought about running, he suddenly stood. He knew what he had to do. He couldn't stay in this town. He had to leave. He couldn't bear to see the brother of the boy he had killed. He couldn't live with that. Rick took off towards the front. He went up to the front desk and sloppily wrote a number down that he grabbed from Stan's wallet, it was the Pines' home number. He told the blonde haired clerk to call there and get Ford up here. That she couldn't say who brought Stan in for Stan's own security and pride. He was a liar.

Rick left swiftly out the front doors and without looking back, he hopped into his truck and drove away.

Ford awoke from his morning snooze with the sound of the phone ringing. He groaned knowing no one was home to answer it so he would have to sacrifice his own comfort in bed to grab it. He hated being home alone but with his father at work, mother away at a palm readers association meeting, and Stan God knows where, he had to suffer through it. Ford grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and flung back the covers. He shivered as his cold feet touched the wooden floors of their home.

The phone continued to ring and he growled, "I'm coming! Geez!"

Picking up the phone form it's perch on the wall he put the receiver to his ear, "Hello?" He said with a groggy tone and a yawn.

"Hello, is this Stanford pines?" a woman asked.

"Yes, who is this" Ford asked and his eyebrows furrowed.

"Hello this is nurse Jackie at the Jackson General Hospital...it appears your brother has been in an accident. He apparently he was mugged on the street and injected with lethal doses of heroine. I must ask that you come in immediately he is under but not stable at this time..."

Ford was no longer listening. The phone had long been dangling by its cord having slipped past Ford's six fingers. His eyes were wide with shock and a sickening feeling of dread and fear rose within him. He clambered to pick back up the phone once he heard the woman's voice calling to him.

"Sir!? Sir hello!?"

"I-I'm here.." Ford wheezed as he picked back up the phone.

"Okay sir, your brother is in a serious state at the moment. We'll need you to come down here." She said with a soft tinge of sorrow in her voice.

"okay..." Was all Ford could say as he hung up the phone back on the wall hook.

Ford arrived at the hospital on his bike within minutes. He didn't worry about properly dressing himself as he ran out of his home and hopped onto his bike. He wore a pair of Stan's dirty jeans and his old varsity jacket zipped up over his bare chest. Ford ran inside the hospital and was greeted with a few pairs of confused eyes. His own were red and swollen from his fit of crying while he rode there. He looked absolutely a mess.

"Where is Stanley Pines!?" He asked urgently to the nurse whom he had spoken to on the phone.

"Room 104," She said with saddened eyes, "Mr. Pines...I must warn you...he's not doing so well at the moment. The doctors have given him proper fluids and we are now just waiting to see if he makes it through...I'm terribly sorry..."

Ford brushed past her quickly. His eyes scanned the small plaques on the walls labeling what rooms belonged to what halls. He saw the label 100-110 on a plaque and followed its arrows. Rushing down the large hallways he finally arrived at the room Stan was in. Biting back tears, Ford slowly opened the door.

The room was eerily silent save for the low soft beeps of the heart monitor that sounded too slow and soft. Ford walked past the threshold of the door and shut it behind himself. He rounded a small corner in the room to see his brother lying on a bed. His skin was pale and deep bags rested below his sunken eyes. He looked frail and sick. He was always so lively and strong but now, he looked so weak and feeble. Ford felt a sob escape him as he watched his brother take soft breaths provided to him by a breathing tube lodged into his throat. He felt pain and sorrow consume ever fiber of his being. His heart thumped heavy against his chest and caused the hard reform he had to shatter as more sobs gave way to fill the room's silence.

"S-Stan...oh god.." He whimpered as he approached the side of Stanley's bed.

Ford reached out and held the hand that wasn't stuck with an IV. He took Stan's hand in his own to intertwine his six fingers with Stan's five. Feeling the soft skin of Stan's hand made his heart slow and some of the pain to loosen its grip on Ford's chest. He brought the hand up to his lips and kissed it gently as soft tears fell from his eyes. He sat there in silence. Any sound at this point would hurt him physically. His whole frame was shaken from the force of his sobbing earlier and he continues to tremble as he held Stan's hand. Ford's eyes opened slowly to examine Stan's arm. The nurse said a stranger attacked him with a needle but he knew it was a lie. He knew what happened to Stan and knew who did this to him. He knew Stan had taken the drugs on his free will.

"Why Stan...oh god I should have stopped you.." Ford whispered shakily into Stan's bruised knuckles. He knew deep down in his gut this would happen. He knew he should have stopped Stan last night. But he didn't and now Stan was teetering between the spectrum of life and death.

The tears returned to Ford's eyes, "Stan...please. Please don't leave me...You promised, you promised you'd always be here i-if I'd always love you...well I need you now..." Ford sobbed, "W-we have so much to do. T-The Stan-o-wars needs to sail! I can't sail her myself Stan, it wouldn't be the same.."

Hours passed with Ford just watching his brother take labored breaths. The doctors had removed the tube seeing he didn't require it anymore. Stan's vitals weren't improving but also weren't getting any worse so Ford assumed he was at least better off than before.

"Ford.." A soft voice suddenly called to him interrupting his deep thoughts.

Ford jumped as he heard it but he couldn't tell where it came from. Was he finally going mad? After all this time had his mind finally given way and broken down?

"Ford you goof.." Came the voice again. It was weak and crackled like it were someone whom had been asleep for years without speaking.

Finally a firm squeeze to Ford's hand made him look down to see Stan's eyes open and glimmering up at him in the soft light of the room as a smile tugged at his lips. Ford nearly fell from his chair as he clambered to Stan's side to listen to his brother.

"STAN! Oh Stanley!" Ford cried as -for what seemed the billionth time- tears poured from his eyes behind his glasses.

"Shhh sixer, don't hurt yourself okay?" Stan returned and chuckled weakly but it didn't lack any sense of glee and content.

Ford was speechless at this point so Stan decided to fill the space, "I really fucked up didn't I..?"

"I..." Ford couldn't find the right words to say. How could he tell Stan everything was okay and he was fine when everything was in fact so wrong. How could he tell his brother that he could just go back home and be happy when Ford knew that what awaited Stan at home was probably worse than the idea of losing him completely, that after all of what their father swore to do to him that he'd wish he _were_ dead.

"Dad is mad.." Was all Ford could say.

"I figured..." Stan sighed heavily and sat up slowly, "He'll probably kick my ass...I'll be out on the street before I know it. I'll have to live out of my car and in shitty motels living off of cheap take-out and overdue rent money...He'll kill me-"

"No." Ford suddenly interrupted, "No he won't, you want to know why? Because I won't let him Stan. All our lives you've been shoved around by that man, no more Stan."

Stanley smiled softly at Ford's words. His eyes glistened with hope as he listened to Ford speak and suddenly he joined in, "We..W-We can run away. You and me together! We'll load up the Stan-O-Wars and just run! No more dad, no more of this town, no more trouble. Just you and me sailing across the world going on adventures a-and it can just be us together!"

Ford's face fell into a sad frown. His eyes softened and Stan knew what was coming next. He knew that look well, the look of 'Stanley you know that's not going to work.'

"Stanley...I..." Ford was searching for the right words to lay Stan down with a softer blow.

"I know.." Stan said suddenly and looked away with sorrow in his deep chocolate hues. He knew well that his brother -unlike him- had an actual future. He knew Ford wouldn't want to live the live of freedom with Stan. He knew Ford would eventually get away yes, but he'd be off at some nice college with a full ride. Ford would leave him eventually and the wrath of their father would consume and destroy Stan. He knew it would.

"Hey, don't look so glum chum!" Ford attempted to cheer Stan up but there was nothing he could do to bring Stan back from his thoughts now so he said nothing else.

"Ford...when you leave...I'll have no one..." Stan said in a meek and small voice that was barely audible.

"Stan, I will never leave you." Ford's voice was stronger than before. It was stern and it shocked Stan a moment.

"what..?"

"I will never leave you Stan. Never. I...I want you to come with me. When I leave next month for college, I want you to come with me. We can rent a place all our own and with both of us helping for rent we'll have more money and it will be financially easier!"

Stan's eyes widened at his brothers sudden offer, "F-Ford, you really mean it!?"

"Yes Stan, as long as you're willing to work for it~" Ford said with a smile and a soft chuckle.

Stan threw his arms around Ford suddenly and held his brother close, "I am Ford! I am!" He cried and held onto Ford like his life depended on Ford.

Ford sat himself on the side of the bed and smiled as he was pulled down to his brother's side. Stan held Ford's hand awkwardly in his own and smiled at him. He stared into Ford's eyes and brought Ford's six digit hand up and kissed each knuckle. Ford returned the gesture and smiled at Stan with love in his eyes. Stan nuzzled into Ford's chin and Ford kissed the top of Stan's head.

"Never leave me Stan..." Ford whispered softly.

"I won't Ford," Stan replied.

They locked eyes once again and the urge to fill he space between them grew too great. Stan leaned forwards and so did Ford. Their lips where mere inches away before the door to the room swung open and there stood their father with a look of rage and disgust upon his face.

((oooooooo they got caught! Stan is also in big trouble!))


End file.
